Gild (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 1), Raven Kennedy [good books to read TXT] 📗

foot around the leg of the stool to move it closer, his hands still holding onto mine, the water droplets collecting on his palms.

“Fulke is a flesh trader.”

Shock courses through me. “What?”

Midas nods solemnly. “I heard rumors, but I found out for sure months ago. When I was able to confirm it, I knew something needed to be done.”

I try to keep up with his words, try to make the connections. “So you planned how to take him out? How to kill him?”

Midas’s lips press together at my damning tone. “Would you rather I let him continue to sell his own people for profit?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Auren, I’m a king, and kings have to make hard decisions. When it became clear to me that Fulke was no longer a viable ally, not even a good person, I decided to act.”

“By setting him up. Tricking him. By sending his men into a meaningless slaughter,” I accuse. “How many of his soldiers died, Midas?”

“As few as possible, just enough to make it work.”

I scoff. “As if that makes it any better!”

“Better a man die with honor on a battlefield than a child be sold to slavery. Wouldn’t you agree, Auren?”

A punch.

That’s what it is. His words punch into my stomach, against my heart, up my throat. He shreds me inside with a sentence, memories threatening to come up, to spill out my eyes.

“I did it for you, Auren,” Midas says, quieter now, losing the defensiveness of his voice. “To make sure they don’t endure what you did.”

When a tear slips past my eye, he swears and wipes it away, his face earnest. “I’m sorry. You know me, you know how I get. Once I get a plan in my head, it’s all I see. I didn’t stop to consider the consequences. I just knew I wanted him gone. Done. To stop him once and for all.” His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his eyes boring into mine. “But listen to me when I say this: I was never going to let him have you. It was a ruse.”

My throat is dry, but I clear it so I can speak. “Why not just tell me, then? Why not explain all this before so I knew?”

“I was worried that he’d find out somehow, that you wouldn’t be able to pretend. I needed Fulke complacent. Distracted. You did your part beautifully.”

I drop my head, shaking it. “I was so damn terrified, so hurt. I don’t know if I can get past that.”

“Like I said, I didn’t think,” he tells me, a stroke against my cheek before he drops his hand.

“You killed a king, Midas. Used him to attack another. What are you going to do?” I ask, the worry gnawing at my insides as my teeth gnaw on my lip.

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells me. “I have a plan.”

I can’t help the bitter snort that escapes me. “I suppose you’re not going to tell me it, just like you didn’t tell me that you were tricking Fulke about giving me to him.”

Midas sighs. “I didn’t dare say more. No one knows any of this, Auren. No one aside from you knew what I set up. And I have to play this next part just as carefully. Just as meticulously. But I need you to forgive me, Precious. I need you to understand.”

Do I? Do I understand?

I’m relieved, I know that much. The coiled tension that’s been inside me these past days has eased. He wasn’t going to let Fulke have me. He had a plan.

It was callous and thoughtless, but it makes sense. This is how Midas is, how he’s always been. That strategic, brilliant mind of his sometimes falls short on emotions. He can scheme and plan like an expert, but he often forgets the human side of it.

“I was so mad at you.”

Midas chuckles, the sound breaking some of the tension between us, bringing us a step back to what we were, what we should be.

“I know. I thought you were acting. Figured you trusted me enough and you were just putting on a good show. But then in the ballroom earlier, you were furious.”

A heat crawls up my cheeks. “Yeah, sorry about defying you in front of everyone.”

He gives me a soft smile. “It’s alright.”

Midas gets up and grabs a drying cloth off a hook, holding it up for me. I stand up at the silent direction and step out of the tub, letting him wrap me up in it.

Once I’m dried and dressed in a nightgown, Midas takes me back to my bedroom. My damp ribbons splay behind me with my hair, my head resting on his chest as his hand rubs down my back.

This. This is what we’ve been missing. How many nights has it been since he’s held me like this?

Months. I’m not sure how many.

“You used to hold me every night,” I say softly against his tanned skin, his chest peeking out from the undone tie at the top of his tunic. His legs are crossed at the ankles, both of us lying atop the blankets, not needing any other warmth besides each other.

Midas smiles against my head. “I did. Probably not the best thing for a newly wedded man to do.”

Probably not, but I was greedy for it anyway.

“If the queen was jealous, she had a strange way of showing it,” I say, remembering that first year. “She gifted you three royal saddles for your birthday.”

I remember being shocked. Shocked and jealous. His own wife expected him to have sex with other women. Encouraged it, even. Just not with me.

The first time he slept with one of them, it had gutted me. I’ve grown used to it by now. Not that it doesn’t still hurt, but I understand. He’s a king. What did I really expect?

As if he can sense the directions of my thoughts, Midas’s arm pulls me up until I’m lying on top of him, our faces in front of each